


Your Voice Reminds me of the Night

by Schediaphilia



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Age Difference, Awkward Kissing, Dissociation, Implied mental illness, M/M, Pompous Pep, Poor attempts at humor, Rating May Change, Sleep Deprivation, Sort of? - Freeform, Stream of Consciousness, Tags May Change, Temperature Play, Touch-Starved, WIP, alcohol mention, bonding over loneliness, but honestly this really embodies 'endangered species' more, concerned older sisters, discussions of mortality, enemies to awkward make out buddies to enemies to awkward make out buddies again, extremely likely eventual smut, fire and ice cores, grey morality, nonsexual physical intimacy, pretentious purple prose prattle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 23:10:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14903961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schediaphilia/pseuds/Schediaphilia
Summary: It's been hard to sleep lately. Danny can't quite place why, he just knows he always feels this weight. This heavy anxiety that makes his chest tighten, makes it hard to breathe. He needs some time to himself. Perhaps for himself.Pushing the buzzing of his head aside, Danny tries to find a quiet place to gather his thoughts and is interrupted by the most prominent reason he can't relax: Vlad Masters.





	1. Shame on You

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally intended to be a one shot but it's very possible I'll make an addition. As a forewarning, I've never been known to finish what I start, so don't get too emotionally invested. It's also only very lightly edited so I apologize for any grievous grammatical errors. 
> 
> To clarify, Danny is 16 in this fic. I always headcanon that around the start of season 3 he's around 16. 
> 
> This fic was inspired by the song [ アイオライトに (Iolite ni) ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWblq1QE2gg) by GHOST. If you squint and tilt your head, perhaps you can see its influence.
> 
> EDIT: Well, I've replaced the first chapter with an edited version since I ended up continuing this, whoops.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In 3 hours and 12 seconds  
> You'll learn what a burning anger is" - Quarrel with the Doppelganger by Minus-P
> 
> Danny has enough to worry about without assuring everyone that he's fine. Really.

Danny can’t shake the feeling of dread that clings to his skin. It seems to intermingle with the cold sweat running down his neck and he holds back a tremble in the night air. 

Vlad’s up to something. It’s been awhile since he’s done anything, so he must be planning something big. Danny supposes there’s a possibility the man has admitted defeat, or perhaps he’s content with a mayoral position. But that doesn’t really fit Plasmius’s MO. He’d want something eventually, that’s always how it worked. A large span of silence and then something big and Danny didn’t want to be caught off guard again. 

The town was so quiet, so deserted he didn’t even need to go intangible to wander unnoticed. If Danny was one for being philosophical, he’d ponder why he always felt at ease while completely alone in the dead of night. That’s the sort of thing horror movies are about, but being the quiet streets illuminated only by moonlight and yellow street lamps didn’t make him think of horror movies. It felt peaceful, somehow. 

This was a fairly normal routine for Danny. He’d go outside to think when he couldn’t think and just wander, let the cold air bite at his skin. Danny thinks he should be happy Vlad is leaving him alone instead of making him miserable, that he should treasure every moment that’s not laden with hardship. It’s not like Vlad is his only concern, he was just the one that hit closest to home, figuratively and literally speaking. 

Danny finds himself in a park, a new one constructed about a month ago, and finds himself sitting on a bench and gazing at the garden in the middle. Danny had to admit, lately the town seemed to be improving. Not so long ago, Sam had decided to deal with the development the only way she knew how: protest. And surprisingly, it worked. Vlad made this whole big speech about how nature should be valued and that he would be working on efforts to improve the greenery and then he actually followed through. No one expected that. But Danny supposed it was all for approval ratings. It must look really good for him to respond to a teen-led protest so positively, like he’s compassionate, like he cares about things. 

Danny sighs and he has a feeling if his core weren’t ice, he could be able to see his breath in front of him. But as it is, even he feels deathly silent. 

The garden wasn’t the only thing. It was the funding going into the school, into arts programs of all things. Something about “enriching the youth,” but Danny had a feeling it was just feeding his ego. Artistic appreciation seemed to go hand in hand with pompous elitism, so that was just another thing to make him look better. Refined and caring about ‘the youth’ in one swell swoop. 

People talked about him using his personal funds for grants like it made him a great person, a… that word Danny always forgets. That he was some great guy for donating less than 1% of his fortune on some art supplies, on a community garden, on some scholarships to keep kids in state. Whatever. He didn’t mean any of those things, he just wanted to look good. But even still, if he was keeping out of Danny’s hair, that was a good thing. Right?

Hell, he’d even been able to enjoy his birthday properly this year with his friends and family. That was something he didn’t get to have last year in between dodging Skulker, something that at the time drove him crazy with irritation. On his birthday  _ of all days _ Skulker decides to go ghost-child-hunting. Typical, really. So, all in all, Danny feels like he should be grateful or maybe even relieved by the lack of fighting. 

And yet Danny couldn’t shake this feeling that something was wrong. It’s then he feels his core shudder in his chest, wracking with a freezing cold that brushes out past his lips. He doesn’t have a chance to fully appreciate what the blue exhale means. 

“You know,” a familiar voice spoke out.

Danny jumped, leaning into the cold metal arm of the bench as he curled his legs under him, ready to bounce onto his feet to attack.

“Just because you’re a hero doesn’t mean curfew doesn’t apply to you.”

It took Danny a second more to locate the source of the voice, the dark, low voice that Danny knew by heart. He finds the man-- no, the ghost was more accurate currently-- floating above him. At first he doesn’t respond, his skin prickling far more intensely than simply being due to the temperature. Because the park is new, there’s no lights in it yet and Danny finds Vlad’s sickly blue-green glow feels much more foreign in the lowlight. He can’t decide if it feels sinister or not, the way his skin and eyes seem to be incandescent, the way he can see Plasmius’s teeth as he smiles. 

“What’s it to you?” Danny spits out, fist clenching as he readies to go ghost at a moment's notice. He holds back only because he doesn’t want a fight right now and if he can avoid it, he will.  He normally wouldn’t hold back, but he’s tired. Tired from school, family, and just sort of tired from… everything. He’s not confident he could pull himself in a fight right now. 

Plasmius’s smile only widens and Danny thinks, actually, he could hold himself in a fight. Because he  _ hates _ it. He’s always hated how Vlad smiles. Danny thinks most people smile because they’re happy, because they just heard a great joke, or maybe even because they’re in love. But Vlad smiles like he knows something you don’t, like he’s only putting up with you for his own enjoyment. It reminds him of cats toying with mice, batting them around and pretending the mouse has a chance to win for entertainment. That thought enrages him. 

“I suppose you’re right. It is none of my business.”

For a moment, Danny doesn’t react, processing the words. Then his eyes narrow. What? Plasmius floats down slowly, stretching his arms over his head as he sits down on the opposite side of the bench. His eyes slip closed and for a moment it’s so strange, so startling that the soft red glow slips away. He seems… relaxed. 

“What are you doing?” Danny asks, voice wavering not because he’s afraid but because he’s confused. He’s fairly certain there hasn’t been a single time he’s seen the man where it didn’t end up in a fight. 

“The same thing you’re doing, I suspect,” Plasmius replies, eyes half open, his arms sliding to interlock as he leans back, “enjoying the night air. The quiet. The only thing that’s missing is the stars, but that’s the price we pay for development.” 

Danny finds himself blinking, holding his knees to his chest as he allows himself to relax. He doesn’t trust him to not lash out, but Danny has a feeling he really doesn’t want to fight.  At least not right now. Danny finds himself glancing up at the black sky without thinking about it. 

“You like stars, don’t you, Daniel?” 

Danny doesn’t look at him, doesn’t want to talk to him. He’s glad he’s not beating him up, but he can’t help but feel like he’d being interrogated. 

“I suppose,” Danny says softly. 

A crackle of energy makes Danny’s skin crawl and he tenses, glaring at Vlad as white and black light emanates from him. But for once it isn’t Vlad turning into Plasmius to fight him, it’s Plasmius’s sickly glow disappearing all at once. It’s so dark suddenly and a part of Danny misses the light. Vlad in his human form isn’t nearly as incandescent, the best being the way the moonlight glints in his silver hair and cufflinks, just a tiny bit illuminating his eyes. 

Danny expects Vlad to keep on talking, but he doesn’t say anything. He just slips his eyes closed and leans back, hands in his lap. Danny isn’t too confident about this but… if this isn’t going to end up in a fight, this is nice. Danny has a feeling if it was anyone else who’d found him, they’d scold him. He’d get a cold, it was dangerous to be out at night. Even Tucker and Sam would probably be disapproving, after all exams were coming up. Shouldn’t Danny be studying? 

But Vlad seemed to understand it. 

Danny lets his legs uncurl, lets himself sit normally and just breathe in the cold air, let it fill his hollow lungs and ache from the inside. It’d been awhile since Danny had mastered his ice core, and he thought maybe because of that he found the cold calming. Comforting. He didn’t know Vlad’s reasons for stalking about at night, didn’t really care if he was being honest... but his lack of judgement was nice. He could imagine  thousand scenarios of Vlad berating him, hell, he could imagine a thousand scenarios of his mom, sister, Sam, and even Tucker berating him or making fun of him for it. He knew logically Sam and Tucker probably wouldn’t and maybe it was that same paranoid part of him that made it hard to sleep. The part that made such an undefinable, buzzing anxiety roll through his limbs, made it hard for him to breathe when he thought about it too much. 

But he didn’t even know what was upsetting him. He never did. Danny stares down at his hands, what he can see of them anyway, and lets himself take a deep, slow breath. It’s strange, really, how quickly he relaxes in the cold air even as adrenaline pumps useless through his veins, his heart still convinced he’s about to fight.  Danny finds his eyes raising from his hands and glancing to Vlad, eyes catching onto the puff of vapor with every exhale. Huh. 

“Aren’t you cold?” 

Danny isn’t sure why he asks. It’s not like he cares about the man’s wellbeing. But it makes perfect sense to Danny why he’d be out right now. Afterall, Danny can’t see his own breath, and that feels meaningful somehow. In a way Danny can’t quite describe, it just feels right. 

“Daniel, I’m in a jacket, waistcoat, and undershirt. You’re in a t-shirt. You’re hardly the one who should be asking that question,” Vlad speaks with an incredulous tone, but it’s not like normal. Not making fun, it was too soft to be. 

Danny squints, lips pursed, thinking of how to phrase it.

“Well, yeah, but I’m... the cold doesn’t bother me, I guess,” Danny speaks slowly and can physically feel his brain trying and failing to articulate his ideas. It’s like his brain’s a rusted machine and every cycle brings about a new bout of struggle. 

“I suppose it is cold, yes. But it’s worth it for the seclusion nighttime brings.” 

Danny’s looking at his hands again and for some reason the grass he can’t see is incredibly interesting to him. 

“Isn’t seclusion just another word for ‘lonely’?” Danny asks and once again doesn’t know why  he’s talking, why he  _ cares _ about what Vlad has to say. Maybe it’s just something to do, something to think about that doesn’t make his brain feel like fuzzy, suffocating cotton.

Vlad’s exhale sounds suspiciously like a held back laugh. Danny is struck by how soft it is, how  _ different _ it is. There’s a lot of words Danny could use to describe Vlad. Pretentious, jerky, greedy, jealous, the list goes on. ‘Soft’ is not on that list. 

“It’s curious why we both search it out then,” Vlad replies in an even, low voice that has the smallest hint of amusement. 

Danny expects him to keep talking, to explain, but he just sits there looking at the sky. Okay, cryptic much? 

Danny isn’t sure when he glanced up, but he’s hyper-aware of where his eyes are when Vlad turns his head. Danny can’t sure in this light, but he’s definitely looking at him. Watching him.  And for several moments neither move and Danny just watches in turn, something about Vlad’s strangely relaxed form sticking out to him. As if this is the most natural thing in the world, as if it was completely normal to recline next to your nemesis at midnight.

No, wait, it was midnight when Danny slipped out-- it had to be later now. 

“It’s strange that such fundamentally lonely creatures would seek out isolation,” Vlad finally speaks in a low, quiet voice with that same hint of amusement. As if they were talking about something other people didn’t know, some sort of inside joke Vlad assumed Danny was in on. 

Danny tried to drag some sort of meaning out of Vlad’s words and fell flat. It wasn’t an issue of a lack of vocabulary as much as an issue of gaining any insight from those particular words in this specific order. 

Vlad’s form shifts and Danny can hear the sound of his body moving, can sort of see his posture change, but he’s still looking at him. He can’t see his eyes but he swears he can feel them. 

Is this actually a coincidence? Even if both have the same draw to the night, how likely is it that the two halfas would end up at the same park to lounge? There’s a whole city to wander around. Well, okay, not a whole city-- Danny avoids the downtown areas since they’re the only places still thrumming with light, sound. But this is a residential area, one that goes almost deathly quiet when all of its occupants go to sleep for the night. 

Danny finds himself staring at the moon as he considers this and he hears Vlad shifting. It’s silly, but everytime the man moves his muscles tense. Expecting something. But somehow, despite all well-laid plans, when ‘something’ happens Danny doesn’t react. Vlad’s shifted closer to him, maybe has been shifting closer, and when Danny shifts his bare skin brushes against the fabric of his overcoat. Danny’s first reaction is to shift away because  _ of course it is _ , this is Vlad we’re talking about. 

But then Danny realizes he can feel his warmth even from here and it’s like his brain halts at once at the sensation. The gears twist uselessly, and Danny thinks if it really was a machine it’d be making a terrible grinding sound. But his brain isn’t a machine, so all that happens is Danny for some inexplicable reason  _ leans into _ Vlad with none of the fanfare Danny thinks is appropriate for such a terrible misjudgment. Danny only realizes what he’s done when he figures out what that noise was. That strange muffled voice that just rang out right next to him.

Vlad made this noise that’s the closest thing to a verbalized question mark that Danny’s ever heard. Danny thinks it’s very fitting, so fitting it makes him realize what he just did. But now Danny’s entire arm is brushing against him and he’s  _ so warm _ . A loud part of himself is screaming at himself and he thinks of frogs briefly. How did that saying go? If you boil a frog it’ll die or something, right? But Danny’s not a frog, and Vlad isn’t water, he’s Vlad. And maybe that’s worse actually, because it’s not like frogs have anything against water. In fact, frogs live in water, right? Something like that. 

“Are you all right?” 

Vlad’s concerned voice is like a splash of cold water. Danny pulls away, head heavy and feeling like he’s in a haze. And he’s staring at Vlad like how a child stares at the stovetop that’d burnt them seconds prior, eyes wide mouth slightly parted. But it’s not because he’d touched Vlad, though that was a part of the reaction. No, the thing that had Danny reeling was the undeniable fact Vlad sounded genuinely concerned and Danny immediately chastised himself. 

‘I’m really so pathetic even Vlad is worried about me?’ 

First it was Jazz, but that wasn’t a big deal. Jazz was always worried and Danny figured she was just being more paranoid because she was putting her nervous energy into Danny. She was applying to loads of colleges, she had a lot on her plate. It was almost nice, really, that she’d been concerned. But then it was Sam. And then it was Tucker. And now it was Vlad fucking Masters. 

For some reason, that thought infuriated Danny. He struggled to figure out why though, why it was so frustrating to be asked ‘are you all right?’ 

“I’m fine!” Danny pushed out, his throat straining as his voice cracked. 

And Danny isn’t really sure what he’s going for when he reaches up at Vlad’s throat, his chest thrumming with an energy that was demanding to be pushed out. Vlad pulls back, probably out of instinct, and Danny grapples with the closest piece of him he can find. His fingers furiously grip at cool fabric, curling it as tight as he can in his fist. Vlad is pulling away again and Danny hears him make a quiet grunt and something strikes him at this moment. 

This is all wrong and somehow so familiar. Danny remembers gloved hands wrapped around his throat, curling in his shirt collar. It isn’t fair. Vlad slams him into walls, throttles him, leaves so many bruises he had to steal Jazz’s foundation on more than one occasion. But now, now that Danny was the one reaching for the other’s throat, he was pulling away? 

Danny tells himself that’s why he angrily tore his arm down, his elbow slamming into his thigh as he pulls Vlad to him. What happens next is a domino effect, really. Danny opens his mouth in a yelp of pain, his anger cut short from the discomfort blooming in his leg. His arm falters then, his body reacting to pain in the most primal way it knows: remove the source of pain. So he does, he pushes up to get his surprisingly-painful elbow away from the quickly bruising flesh, but his faltering grip doesn’t let go of Vlad’s collar. Danny hisses in pain then, breathing through his teeth as his gaze turns down. Another natural impulse happens then, his arm flexing as he looks down, fruitlessly, at his leg. 

It’s then that Danny feels something incredibly warm brushing past his cheek, the tickling sensation sending a chill straight down his spine. Danny’s gaze moves up to inspect the source of said warmth, and somehow he’s surprised when he sees Vlad’s face inches away from his.

For a brief moment, the anger flares up again, but that ebbs away quickly when he realizes the ache in his fingers is because he’s still gripping the man’s collar, that this situation was one entirely of Danny’s making. And while everything leading up to this moment was pure accident, a series of biological errors, that doesn’t explain why Danny doesn’t release his grip. He couldn’t explain it as fatigue because he was wide awake now, no longer in that dangerous stupor he was in only minutes prior. 

The best way he could describe it was curiosity. He didn’t let go because Vlad wasn’t pulling away, and from this close Danny could see his eyes just barely. He could see they were staring directly at him, directly into Danny’s eyes. Vlad breathed out and Danny felt the vapor on his face, thought that that sensation was so strange. His breath was so warm, so hot, and when it evaporated on his skin it left this almost unnoticeable wetness. 

An image sprung to Danny’s mind then. He thought of a foggy early morning, of morning dew on lush grass. He thought of the windows of city buses in the dead of winter, of freezing cold on the outside and sultry warmth from the inside. When Vlad did nothing, merely continued to stay still and exist so close to him, be alive so close to him, something inside of Danny was in awe. As if Vlad was doing something amazing by just breathing, that steady and predictable shuddering breath brushing against him making his skin tingle. 

Danny felt then like morning frost on a cold window being melted away with the patient, quiet breath of someone wishing to peer inside. He wondered then if he was melting away, if Vlad was trying to peer inside of him. He wondered what he’d find there, what was worth seeing? 

But Danny didn’t have the verbal acuity to express these feelings even when he was well rested. So Danny chose to say nothing and to not move. Because he wanted Vlad to look inside of him then, even if it meant he’d be melted away. It was a lonely feeling that overtook him, that was the best way he could describe it. A pleasant agony, a bittersweet sadness. 

Vlad shifted and Danny released his grip, fingers still bent when Vlad moves. But Vlad doesn’t pull away, he moves closer, and his breath feels even nicer like this. It brushes against his nose, his lips. Instinctively, Danny licks his lips and a part of him is delighted to find he can feel the warmth there still, like he’s tasting it. 

When another source of heat presses gently onto his neck, Danny’s eyes slip closed. He lets out a pleased hum when he puts together what it is. And every single part of his biology should be screaming out when he realizes it’s Vlad’s hand on his neck. Because he’s not Phantom, because he’s so vulnerable there, because Vlad is a predator with a charming smile that was nothing but teeth ready to tear him apart. 

And despite the fact that Vlad’s bite does very often match his bombastic bark, Danny doesn’t pull away. Again, his brain malfunctions, the gears grinding to an utter halt as he turns his head slightly and pushes up his shoulder. Danny lets out a pleased sigh when Vlad responds to the gesture, intrigued by the feeling of muscles tensing as Vlad slides his hand up. His fingers press so softly against his skin as he slides his fingers up, parting to position two of his fingers in front of Danny’s ear and two behind. 

Warm, warm and so soft, that’s all Danny could muster to put a word to the feeling when he flexed his fingers there. A brief moment passed where Vlad didn’t move at all and all Danny could feel was his lingering warmth that was a part of him, seeping into Danny’s skin as he breathed. He feels Vlad move then, his fingertips rubbing into the skin behind his ear and it sends a shudder down his body. A faraway part of him thinks it’s because it’s him, because this is Vlad and he’s far too close for comfort. He feels those fingers flex then, feels the rough skin of Vlad’s palm brush against his cheek.

“You’re so cold, Daniel,” Vlad says in a quiet voice and it’s tone is as warm as it feels against Danny’s skin when he feels Vlad’s breath. Danny breathes out, humming softly as a pleasant tingling bubbles over scalp as Vlad massages the skin behind his ear. He probably doesn’t realize he’s doing it, it’s so soft. “Are you sure you’re all right?” 

Danny feels Vlad’s words on his lips when the sound of Vlad’s voice makes the short trip to him, when the breath bringing those words to life meet him. It occurs to Danny that Vlad’s asked a question and that he ought to answer, but right now his brain is still at an utter standstill. He attempts to push words together in a sensible order, but it feels like he’s wading in viscous cotton. Like he’s trying to keep his head above ground, but every movement sends him tumbling forward into this quagmire of comfortable, fluffy electricity. 

“You’re so warm,” is what he finally manages to piece together and the voice he hears sounds so unlike himself. 

Danny hears Vlad breathe in then, but not the quiet and steady breaths from before. No, this was a brief intake of breath, a nearly imperceptible gasp. If they weren’t so close, Danny would’ve missed it. It’s not fair, he thinks as Vlad’s breath wavers on his face.  Vlad is so warm inside, so warm he has enough to spare. Danny wonders what it’s like to be warm inside and he feels like he knew what it was like not so long ago. But that was so long ago. Not in years, but in experience. So much about his life had changed. 

It’s not fair. Another hand touches his face then, and it feels natural to let him cup his face. He’s so warm, so hot, his skin almost feels like its burning him in contrast to this cold night air. Vlad breathes again and it sort of bothers him then because there’s a note to his breath beyond the warmth, a scent. It smells familiar, sharp. It’s almost annoying how warm he is, because he’s probably not even aware of it. Not even aware of how selfish he was for keeping it from Danny, how selfish it was to not share. 

He thinks of hot coffee. Bitter, sharp but mellow, covering his tongue in this indescribable heat. He thinks of Vlad’s breath sliding down his throat, of tasting him, of drinking down the evidence that Vlad was alive. Danny leans forward and when his lips hit Vlad’s, it’s like the sensation moves in a warm wave down his entire body. And it all starts with his lips, hot and so much softer than Danny would’ve expected. 

“Mm,” Danny whimpers into Vlad’s skin, feeling so incredibly warm against his lips. Danny moans then, overwhelmed by the growing feeling of comfortable static that’s making his lips tingle, his own breath to grow unsteady. Vlad’s fingers flex then, pressing firmly but not painfully, pushing up to push through his hair, run along his scalp. 

Danny thinks when Vlad’s hands meet at the back of his skull, when his fingers experimentally tighten in his hair that he could be content just like this. But then Vlad twists his head and Danny can feel his goatee against his chin and Danny realizes he can feel more warmth under his own hands, that he can feel soft hair. Vlad deepens the kiss, pulling Danny as close as he physically can and Danny doesn’t mind in the slightest. 

And when Danny instinctively grips Vlad’s hair he’s rewarded with a groan that seems to run down Danny’s throat. God, Vlad is just warm outside, his mouth almost feels molten, like Danny will melt any moment now and he wouldn’t even mind because it feels so nice, so different. So… 

Alcohol? That’s what he tastes like, Danny thinks. But then Vlad runs his tongue along his and he stops thinking entirely, his entire world for a brief instance nothing but utter heat radiating down into his core. The moan he whines into Vlad’s mouth is strangled, desperate for something he’s not present mentally enough to name. And maybe that’s why it’s such a desperate sound, because he doesn’t know what he’s aiming for here, doesn’t know what he hopes to gain and he’s begging Vlad for the answer. But he doesn’t think even Vlad knows what Danny’s looking for, not exactly, and the next moan is quiet and weak, frustrated but resigned. 

Vlad pulls away then, breathes so hard it makes Danny realize how desperate for air he is. It all feels so automatic, like his body is hollowing itself to make more room for his breath with every exhale and Danny gets the idea to steal it, to steal it and let it fill his lungs as he leans forward. But he doesn’t feel Vlad’s lips against his, only a slight sting in his scalp when Vlad tightens his grip in his hair. 

Danny looks at him, frustrated, furious, because he’s being selfish again and he wishes he could make out Vlad’s expression under this darkness. 

“You’re not in your right mind,” Vlad says and only tightens his grip when Danny pushes forward again, weakly trying to wrench out of his grip, “that much is obvious.” 

“I’m fine,” Danny repeats himself but pauses from the tone of Vlad’s voice. He sounds upset. Danny isn’t sure what he did wrong and-- with a metallic groan, those gears twist with a shudder into motion, “I’m fine,” Danny repeats quietly as he begins to realize the gravity of the situation. He isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince. Danny is mentally aware enough to know he’s not fine, this isn’t fine. That even under the evanescent veil of night, this wasn’t fine. It felt good, it felt so fucking good, but it wasn’t fine. 

“Really,” Danny lies. 

Danny can feel Vlad sigh-- and then his hands are reaching out, grappling with his suit jacket because he’s  _ moving away _ and that was so cruel, to give him a taste and give him something to miss when he’s left in the cold. But Vlad doesn’t relent to his grip this time and when he moves it’s with a firm and unwavering finality. This is over. Whatever ‘this’ was. Vlad stands then and Danny lets his fingers relax, hands falling to his sides.

Vlad is looking down at him with a gaze Danny isn’t sure would be more or less intense if he could fully make it out. 

“Go home and rest, little badger. You’re not yourself.” 

When Vlad speaks, it reminds Danny of when he was leaning in Vlad’s hands, when he told him how warm he was. He doesn’t sound like himself. His voice is controlled but has this strange weakness, like he’s exhausted. And why the hell does Danny care? Why did he reach out just now, why did he… Gravity sets in as light blinds him, as he sees Plasmius fly away as he does nothing but sit there speechless. 

What the hell is wrong with him? With both of them? But most of all, Danny? Danny closes his eyes and decides he does need to go home and hopes he’s right, hopes that this can be fixed with resting. Despite his attempts to be opportunistic, what just happened sits in his stomach like a lead weight and he feels like he’s either going to vomit or pass out. Maybe both. He feels numb when he phases into his room and if he was being frank, he doesn’t even remember going ghost, the short flight home. 

The next thing he’s aware of is light on his face, of a voice over him. 

“... missed your alarm,” he makes out her saying, and when a hand touches his forehead he connects the dots, “are you all right? You look awful sweetie.”

He opens his eyes to see his mother looking down worriedly at him. He shifts and he feels so heavy, like his limbs are dead weight.

Maddie makes an inquisitive noise then  as she tilts her head, her voice softening, “Did you go to bed in your clothes?” 

It’s beyond Danny’s grasp what she’s thinking as she makes a noise in thought. She glances over to the end of Danny’s bed and her face softens, her eyes narrowing. 

“Okay. How about you take off your shoes and go back to bed?” 

Her voice is so soft when she pulls away, like she’s worried her tone of voice could make him shatter. 

Danny doesn’t really remember going to bed with shoes on, but sure enough when he flexes his leg he can feel it press into his opposite leg’s ankle. Wordlessly, he uses his toes to push his shoes off and only struggles shortly before he hears them clomp onto the floor. 

Danny feels like all of the energy he’s ever had is sapped out of him, like he’s an empty husk, but he still manages to feel self conscious when she smiles a smile that says ‘I’m smiling not because I’m happy but because I don’t want you to realize how much you’re worrying me.’ 

She turns and walks to the door, calling out a more chipper, “get some rest,” before closing the door behind her.

Great. That makes Jazz, Sam, Tucker, Vlad, and his mom that had all asked the same exact question. It was eerie, actually. They didn’t even have the decency to switch it up a bit. He was so tired of saying ‘I’m fine’, so tired of those same worried eyes, that same worried tone. What were they going to do? What would make them satisfied, make them think he was back to normal? How was he even different? 

Danny breathed out a frustrated groan and covered his face. He thought of the cold night air, of an impossibly hot mouth, of lips so temptingly warm and unexpectedly soft it was dizzying. 

Maybe he isn’t all right. 


	2. Shame on Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wants so badly to do something to relieve this feeling. This dread, this suffocating feeling that something was wrong. That everything was wrong. It wasn’t just grades, of course. It was sort of everything. It was this mounting frustration but he didn’t know what he was frustrated over. Why he was so upset. And it seemed to have only gotten worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the tonal shift and possible dissonance. I'm having trouble placing a cohesive tone for this work as I keep coming back to it after long periods of time and I'm never quite sure what headspace I was in during the last writing session. 
> 
> This is lightly edited as usual, I hope it's enjoyable.

Danny shifts his head, feels the dimpled plastic of keys under his face, hears the mechanical clatter. He groans, arms lying limply next to him on his desk while his computer emits an irritating beep in an unpredictable cadence. He shifts and the beeping stops. He reluctantly opens his eyes.

Exams really sucked. Really, really sucked. He doesn’t really think there’s anything in the world that’s figuratively capable of sucking more. Wait, is it figuratively or literally? Crap, that doesn’t really make him confident in his English grade. But whatever. 

‘What’s done is done! No use worrying now!’ he thought as he proceeded to do exactly that. 

He wishes he could just turn it all off, unplug himself somehow and rest. But he probably will need to do summer school if he wants to graduate on time and he can already hear the chiding comments. At least he hadn’t had to deal with any ghosts lately. But that somehow made him more nervous. He was pretty sure it was a mathematical error to assume that the longer gone without an event means it’s more likely to occur, but it felt right. That didn’t really make him confident in his math grade, either, now that he thought about it. 

His computer emits another kind of annoying beep. Man. That’s like all computers do, really. He’s not sure what to do with that realization so he files it away, maybe he can use it in a fight with Technus somehow. Not that he’d had to deal with Technus in forever. He recognizes this particular beep as the beep from his IM client, but he’s not really in the mood to chat grades, which is definitely what’s on his friends’ minds. 

He reaches up and turns off the monitor and then hauls up his body. He stretches his arms over his head and tries not to grimace when he hears his shoulders and neck cracking. He glances around his room one, twice. He sighs and walks over to his bed and lays face down into his pillow. This isn’t really comfortable, he realizes, so he turns onto his side and wraps his arms around himself. 

He wants so badly to do something to relieve this feeling. This dread, this suffocating feeling that something was wrong. That everything was wrong. It wasn’t just grades, of course. It was sort of everything. It was this mounting frustration but he didn’t know what he was frustrated over. Why he was so upset. And it seemed to have only gotten worse. Sam actually pulled him aside after exams yesterday to ask him in a hushed but serious voice, “seriously, Danny, are you okay,” and at least she had the decency to use different phrasing. 

And when Danny pushed out the practiced, if a bit exasperated, ‘I’m fine’ he realized he wasn’t fine. But he didn’t want to tell her that, to have her worry. A helpless feeling filled him because it’s not like his words prevented that. He kept telling everyone he was fine, really, but they still worried. It was obvious. 

Hell, even  _ he _ had been worried about him. 

Danny grits his teeth and closes his eyes. No, he didn’t want to drag that up again. That was a problem for future Danny, now Danny wanted to take a nap and maybe stop feeling like a failure. Whichever came first, really. 

But actually, that was another problem. It was in its own category, really. For a lot of reasons. The most pressing being Vlad’s bi-monthly dinners with his parents. Okay, Jazz and Danny were there too, but they weren’t really expected to say much. And Danny guessed he was grateful he’d only had to suffer the most succinct of forced pleasantries with Vlad last dinner. Mainly because it was only two days after…  _ that  _ happened. Whatever  _ that _ was. 

And he guessed he was grateful Vlad had mysteriously needed to go out of state about two weeks ago. He couldn’t really prove it, but he suspected the man was extending some sort of peace offering with the sudden cancellation. Or, he just actually needed to go out of state. 

Either way, Danny supposes he’s grateful he’d been spared his presence. But then again, he probably shouldn’t be grateful over a possibly imagined act of kindness from Vlad. It was Vlad. It wasn’t just possible there was an ulterior motive, it was statistically almost definite. Or, well, Danny guesses it is. He’s still not really confident about his math grade. 

But then again, the entire situation was so weird. It wasn’t like him. Either of them, if he thought about it. Danny shifts slightly, whining to no one in particular as he does so. He hates to phrase it like this, but there’s no better way to put it. He’d tasted like alcohol. Danny wasn’t exactly acquainted with most alcohols, but he’d caught a smell of various beverages his parents had. He wasn’t really the kind to attend parties. Okay, he  _ wanted _ to but he just never managed to snag an invitation. 

Anyway, the point is, Vlad was probably drunk and something about that didn’t sit right with him. First of all, it didn’t really fit the image Danny had of Vlad. He was pathetic, but not the kind of pathetic to be wandering around drunk at 2 AM. But Danny supposes that’s why they didn’t get into a fight, why he was so relaxed around him. Something about that makes him feel worse, makes his stomach turn. He’s not sure what it is, he feels like a lot of his life lately is just a swirling and suffocating uncertainty and that just pisses him off. 

Maybe it’s because a tiny part of him feels bad about it. Vlad wasn’t doing anything to him and he’d… Danny grimaces and covers his face with a pillow. He remembers lunging for his throat, but he wasn’t really thinking. Not fully. It was almost like he’d blacked out with rage, but he still remembers the most basic parts. A blurry image, the feeling of fabric underneath his tense fingers. Danny’s not really sure what he would’ve done if his hands had met their intended target and that scares him. But not as much as how quickly his temperament had changed, how quickly he’d turned from anger to… whatever that was.

And if he was being honest, he felt really crappy about it. Vlad was sort of beyond Danny’s full comprehension, but even he had to be pretty confused. And that was the worst part, he’d kissed back. He ran his fingers through his hair, he ran his tongue along his. And what scares Danny even more is how good it’d felt, how Vlad had to be the one to put a stop to it. 

And then Vlad had said he wasn’t himself. Told him to go home. That’s what scares Danny the most. Because, what if he’s wrong? Danny doesn’t feel particularly unlike himself. As far as he’s concerned, he’s still him. But everyone keeps acting like he’s a different person. It’s not that he doesn’t know he’s changed, everyone keeps shoving it in his face. How can he not know? It’s that he doesn’t know how to be the Danny everyone thinks he should be anymore. Like he doesn’t know how to be himself anymore. Maybe this is just who he is now? 

Danny presses the pillow into his face, holds it down hard until he struggles to breathe. 

It’s not fair. Out of all things Danny is good at, it’s  _ being Danny _ . But apparently he can’t even do that now. Because apparently, the Danny that didn’t leave his room the entire weekend wasn’t the what everyone wanted. The Danny who didn’t want to talk on IM about how hard he bombed his exams wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t even good enough to be himself. 

His breath shudders, chest beginning to burn from exertion, his throat straining as he struggles to breathe in air through the fabric. With no fanfare, he pushes the pillow off of his face and lets himself breathe, feels the air pulsing in and out of him. It feels like the only proof he’s even alive lately, but he tells himself that’s melodramatic. 

There’s something lonely about hearing your own breathing, feeling your own heartbeat all alone. It’s like that Latin phrase… What was it? ‘Remember that you will die.’ His heartbeat, his lungs expanding and deflating on an even rhythm, they were evidence he was alive. They were both things that stopped the moment he became Phantom. Danny finds himself idly looking at his own hand, his other arm clutching the pillow to his chest. 

Maybe it was because Danny feels like he’s been staring into the same face since he was fourteen. Maybe that’s why he feels so discontented. Maybe it’s because Jazz is moving out in a few short months to go to university and she’s so  _ excited _ and she’s going to do something with her life, be someone special. She’s going to change the world. And there’s Sam, who’s always been extremely driven just doing what she does best. Not backing down for what she thinks is right even when the whole world is against her. Even Tucker was changing, he already has a job lined up with a tech repair shop for the summer. 

And then there was Danny. Danny, who probably failed all of his glasses. Danny, who’s only notable talent was the fact he was half-ghost, which went entirely to waste when there was no ghosts to corral back into the ghost zone. Danny who’s looked exactly the same for three years, who’s going nowhere in his life, who’s watching everyone he loves change and leave him behind to live. 

He breathes in and it feels almost like it’s mocking him, like his lungs are mocking him by drawing in breath. He thinks of his parents, of their hushed voices discussing finances. Even though Jazz was offered scholarships, that didn’t cover transportation, that didn’t cover her food plan. She was going to be getting a job to buy her own car this summer. And what about driver’s ed for Danny, he hasn’t even had it yet? They suppose he can just take the test when he’s 18, but then his insurance premiums will go up and they’ll probably have to be in their name… 

He thinks of the bowl of cereal he had for breakfast, of the bag of chips no one else likes that his parents buy him. He thinks of Sam and Tucker and everything they’ve done for him, all of the sacrifices they’ve made to support him. Everyone around him was worrying about him, wasting resources on him, sacrificing some small part of him just to keep him alive. But he can’t even bother to survive. 

He shakes his head once, twice. That got dark there. There’s no sense in thinking like that. Damn. He realizes he’s standing, holding the pillow tightly in one arm, in the middle of his room, realizes he’s been pacing. It’ll be summer soon. The air that blows into his room is already warm, or at least it feels warm to him. He wasn’t the best judge on temperature, he supposes. Soon, the nights will by humid, damp, and uncomfortably hot. He glances at the curtain blowing in the breeze. Is it already night time? It feels like he just woke up. 

He tries to think. He’d gone to bed after he’d gotten home from school yesterday and then stayed in bed until morning. Then, he’d begrudgingly forced himself downstairs to eat breakfast and grabbed a bag of chips on his way back upstairs, which ended up serving as his lunch. He was hungry. He doesn’t recall being asked to come down to dinner. Maybe he’d fallen asleep at some point. It doesn’t really matter, Jazz was giving him space lately for some reason. He guesses she got some sort of vibe that he didn’t want his mind poked right now. Plus, she usually covered for him when he was missing. 

He sighs and drops the pillow onto the ground, stepping forward as he speaks out of habit alone, “I’m going ghost.” 

Rings of light erupt at his middle and that familiar feeling of crackling energy curling and down his limbs fills him. Without further fanfare, his fingertips still tingling from his transformation, he phases out of his room and flies up to take in Amity Park. It’s cold up here, so high up above the city. He should’ve checked what time it is, he realizes, but he can’t bring himself to really care. It’s almost the summer and it was dark out, so it was late enough for most people to be in. 

An idea struck him. The time didn’t really matter if he just stay up here, so far above the ground if he thinks about it too long it makes him feel a little dizzy. He flies up suddenly, limbs pulsing with traces of adrenaline, higher. It’s cold, a deep comforting cold when he flies this high up. The feeling of the wind brushes against his face, sends his hair back, and it feels like home. He closes his eyes and snickers quietly to himself-- and then twists his body, arms out at his sides as he lets himself fall, turning in the air. Wordlessly, he catches himself, swooping up with momentum. 

He’s not sure how much time passes as he repeats his actions just to feel the force of the air pushing against him, just to feel the thrill of catching himself. But he doesn’t let himself fall too far, and even if he were to fall to the ground, it’s not like he’d get that hurt. Even still, it feels exhilarating. Like with every burst of energy, every chill that manages to run down his back is urging him on. 

So he does, delighting in the privacy with the night air, with the black moonless sky hanging above him that feels so close it seems like if he reaches out and just  _ grabs--  _ he’ll tear through it and find the stars. 

Eventually, his limbs become heavy and it becomes hard to breathe. He doesn’t really need to breathe when he’s Phantom, but it’s a hard habit to break. He sort of needs to do it so live like 98% of the time. He resolves to find a nice, quiet place to relax and flies down, glancing over his options. When his eyes fall on the park, it catches his eye. 

It’s a strange sight from up here. There’s only street lamps illuminating the perimeter but not the inside, and from up here it looks like it’s this circle surrounded by yellow light. But as his eyes traces it and looks into the center, it’s just black. Nearly pure darkness arches out from the center, fading into a lighter settling of night as his eyes lead back to the perimeter. Weird. Vlad was usually pretty fast with development, but he’s probably dragging his feet on this since it’s just a money sink. There’s no real monetary gain in a park as far as Danny knows. But what’s weirder is that, right now, that seems perfect. 

The darkness under this moonless, black, starless sky seems just right. He doesn’t really think about it as he angles his body and flies down, and for a moment it feels almost like the lights framing the park are some sort of forcefield. A spell to ward him off. But he flies through with no difficulty, nothing stopping him from-- His core shakes, an intense waves of cold air pushing into his throat. 

Light blue wisps pour out of his lips when he spots the sickly blue-green hue. 

What is he doing here? Why? Why were they both here, right now? And he’s not sure but he can see him sitting in a bench and it makes his stomach curl because he’s not sure if it’s the same one they’d sat at then. It’s been about two weeks since they’d sat under the full moon, since they’d sat next to each other without ripping each other’s throats out. 

Danny turns to leave when a wave of guilt washes over him. It makes his heart feel almost as heavy as his tired limbs and it infuriates him because he doesn’t know why he feels guilty. Why should he feel bad about trying to hurt Vlad when Vlad had tried to hurt so many times before? Had  _ hurt _ him so many times before? And he should leave now and hope that Plasmius hasn’t spotted him, that his own core hasn’t alerted him to Danny’s presence.

When he slowly lowers in front of Plasmius, watches his red eyes widen, he rationalizes he’s doing this because there’s no way Danny’s ghost sense went off and his didn’t. That’s all. 

“Plasmius,” Danny forces out of his chest before clenching his teeth. He tries not to puff his chest out, he’s not here to fight him. Not right now anyway. And he hoped that wouldn’t change anytime soon. 

“Daniel,” Plasmius replies smoothly, as if there’s nothing at all strange about this meeting. 

Danny tenses his fingers, realizes his hands are curled into tight fists at his sides. 

“So formal,” Plasmius speaks with a smile, that smile that makes Danny feel like he’s lost a game he didn’t know he was playing. 

Danny thinks to himself that he can save face and leave now. Even Vlad probably wouldn’t hold that against him. Or, actually, he probably would. But Danny could hold out for some hope there, right? Right. Even villains have lines they don’t cross and maybe that’s one of Vlad’s. He realizes he’s been silent for more than enough time for it to be awkward, but he can’t figure out what he wants to do. Right now, Vlad somehow comes out of this looking like a good guy. Like he gently urged a troubled teen into going home, like he was responsible. 

Danny wasn’t about to let him come out of this looking like he was the responsible, paternal persona he projected to the city. 

“I’m sorry about… well, you know,” Danny says and doesn’t hold back the stutter on ‘well’, or the way his voice wavers. Danny steps forward and when he does, he lets his ghost form slip, lets the energy pool into his core and leave his heavy limbs. He sits down wordlessly next to Plasmius and analyzes his face. He can’t tell what Vlad is thinking even when he’s normal, much less when his eyes are piercing red and eerily incandescent.

It’s Vlad’s turn to be quiet for an awkward amount of time. That’s fair, Danny thinks. He’s pretty sure he was radio silence for a good thirty seconds. And wow he really, really wishes he didn’t bring this up, he didn't sit down next to him. He probably could’ve just flown off and not dealt with this forever. Actually, maybe it wasn’t too late to just turn tail and leave. Sure, it’d make him a coward, but at least he’d apologized. That was more than Vlad ever did for him. He was still coming out looking like the good guy. 

Danny expects to hear Vlad’s voice, but instead he hears a crackle of energy as Vlad follows Danny’s example. With zero fanfare, Danny feels like he’s plunged into darkness. And normally, when he’s alone, he would delight in the feeling. Alone with only darkness as a companion is so cliche, he’s pretty sure any one of the bands Sam is into has at least an entire album dedicated to the topic. But that was beside the point, he wasn’t alone right now. Vlad was right next to him and-- 

Danny heard Vlad’s body shift before he felt the hint of his heat as he slid closer to Danny. 

“No need for apology,” Vlad speaks in a low, slow voice and it’s strange. Strange because it’s so close to him and strange because he sounds… different. Danny wonders if he’s drunk again and briefly he has the utterly ridiculous idea to taste him to find out. Danny gulps and attempts to stare at his feet and finds he can barely see them. He realizes they must be close to the center of the park with how dark it is.

And it’s not until Vlad’s incredibly warm body is pressing on him, forcing him to awkwardly lay back onto the bench that he considers how his actions seemed to Vlad. Forces him to consider what Vlad might think he’s apologizing for. Forces him to realize what sitting next to him might be signaling to him, his bashful tone. But when he opens his mouth, he finds it isn’t to hurriedly correct what must be a misunderstanding. Instead he groans quietly as Vlad slides a hand along the side of his face, into his hair. 

His mind is reeling, trying to calculate what Vlad is thinking when he feels his breath on his face and  _ god _ it’s as hot as he remembers it and… he doesn’t smell it. He doesn’t smell alcohol. He’s sober and pressing him down, running his fingers through his hair. Danny can barely see him, can’t see his expression, and he wishes he could. What did he think he was apologizing for? What was he doing? Why? 

Before he could articulate any number of questions Danny had for him, Vlad’s lips met his. Wordlessly, he melted, his eyes fluttering closed. His limbs felt so heavy, so heavy and  _ buzzing _ with energy and it makes no sense. How can he be so physically exhausted and yet full of adrenaline? But he doesn’t question it because this feels as good as he remembers and it feels like falling, falling, but he’s not sure if he’ll catch himself. And he’s not sure if he cares. 

He reaches out, blindly curling his arm around Vlad’s head to pull him closer because this kiss isn’t enough. It’s warm, it’s soft, and it’s so… gentle. Like the kiss itself was a question, like this veil of darkness led them to speak answers they’d never even dream of whispering in daylight. But then Danny’s laughing because, first of all, Vlad’s goatee is tickling him. Second of all, this is ridiculous. 

Danny wordlessly holds Vlad’s head in place when he feels him pull away, laughing into his lips. What the hell is he doing? This isn’t what he intended to happen when he sat down, this isn’t what he wanted when he stood in front of him. But somehow Danny doesn’t  _ mind _ that Vlad is on top of him because it feels right somehow-- Danny stops laughing abruptly, pausing as his breath hitches. But he doesn’t have time to think fully about it because Vlad is leaning next to his ear and--

Danny shivers, lips parting when Vlad breathes his hot breath onto his ear. The tingling sensation that runs along his scalp, down his neck is reminiscent but different to the feeling of Vlad’s fingers rubbing behind his ears. No, this was different because Danny was starting to feel warm in an entirely different way and if he could think straight, he’d be horrified that he doesn’t mind. 

“What’s so funny?” Vlad’s speaks in a low rumble, voice in a quiet lilt and it’s silly but Danny feels like he can hear the smile. But it’s not the smile that pisses Danny off, that makes him want to fight him. It’s genuine. Danny isn’t sure why he hopes that he’s right. 

It takes several moments for Danny to realize that hot breath had more purpose than making his own breath shudder in his throat, that that hot breath had carried words into his ear. Danny smiles, but he doesn’t know why. It’s not funny, it’s really not. Or maybe it is, because this is so weird. Because this feels so nice and Vlad isn’t… He isn’t ruining it somehow. 

“Your goatee tickles,” Danny half-lies because he isn’t sure if he could explain how bizarre this situation is without offending the man. Isn’t sure why he cares if he’s offended. When Vlad laughs it hits him like a freight train, causing a realization that makes his breath pause and his chest tighten. His laugh sounds so nice, so sweet, and that’s not normal, that’s so  _ bizarre _ and  _ wow _ his voice sounds so sweet when it’s dripping like honey in his ear and he’s so warm and he’s smells so nice and, and-- 

Danny feels like an idiot when he realizes he cares if he’s offended because  _ god _ he doesn’t want this to stop, he doesn’t want to be seen as the bad guy but most of all he doesn’t want Vlad to be mad at him and it’s obvious why, right? He was the last one in one this, right? Vlad seemed to get it without even being told and it’s unnerving on some level, it makes him want to laugh but at the same time his stomach is twisting in an entirely new way, an unpleasant way that sends the wrong kind of chills up his spine. 

“I think I like you,” Danny says breathlessly, more to himself than to Vlad and he desperately wants to snatch up the quiet words the moment he hears them leave his lips. Vlad leans back and Danny can hear him breathing hard, can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he leans over him. 

“What was that?” 

Well, that was a freebie. Danny narrowly avoids breathing out in relief at Vlad’s words as the mixture of shame and fear that lit in his throat quiets down considerably.

“N-nothing, I just…” Danny struggles to find a series of words that sounds similar enough to ‘I think I like you’ and utterly fails because  _ holy crap _ he’s pressing down on him and his weight feels so strangely nice. Danny’s never really even thought about what it’d feel like to have the weight of someone pressing down on him, but right now it’s the best thing he’s experienced in awhile. 

And then his mind is simultaneously trying to push forward and turn around. Because he’s thinking simultaneously how to let Vlad down gently and also how to get him some place private because his body is responding in a whole new way to his warmth and he wants more of it. Or maybe, in retrospect, it’s not new, maybe it was the same way he responded before. Maybe he’s been in denial, maybe he’s known he’s attracted to Vlad for awhile now. Maybe he really, really wants to see where this leads. 

But that’s scary. This is scary on some level. This is Vlad, he’s unpredictable. And there’s the chance he was doing this just to trick him, that he’d somehow sensed this before Danny was even cognizant of it and lunged for the chance to have something to hold over him. Something to manipulate him. And that’s a scarier thought than the realization that Danny is attracted to Vlad because it was a weakness, a vulnerability. Another thing to chip away at, another thing Danny needed to keep secret. But the scariest part is it was too late for secrets. The damage was done as far as Danny was concerned. 

He’s at an dead-end here. He’s going to need to choose because Vlad isn’t speaking, isn’t moving and is stock still. Like he’s afraid of something. His heart is saying to tell him he hasn’t been himself and he’s not sure. His dick is saying to ask him to take him somewhere private but that’s scary because being alone with Vlad isn’t exactly his idea of a good time. Or it wouldn’t have been before this precise moment. But then he realizes, as he gently runs his fingers along the back of Vlad’s head and feels his soft hair, that they’re already effectively alone. And he’s not hurting him. 

Danny had given Vlad enough rope to hang himself with and instead of finding the burning twist of a noose on his neck, Danny felt Vlad’s fingers gently glide over a carotid artery. If he wanted to, it’d be so easy to just put his full weight down on him, to just tighten his hands around Danny’s neck like Danny had wanted to do to his. 

Danny thinks of frogs again but this time he’s not sure who’s the frog and who’s the water. He thinks it doesn’t really matter. Whether he’s the frog or the water, either way someone’s getting boiled alive. He thinks, all things considered, there’s worse ways to go. 

“Can we…” Danny starts and hates the way his voice is wavering and steels himself and when he continues speaking he’s more clear, confident,  “find someplace more private?”

Danny can feel Vlad exhale and his breath feels harsher somehow, like he was holding in his breath. That long exhale continues, transforming into a quiet, warm chuckle that makes Danny’s stomach twist and he’s not sure if it’s in the good way or the bad way. 

“You’re not acting like yourself.”

It takes Danny several moments to process the words and when he does it makes his fingers tense. The only thing that stops him from pulling his hands into tight fists is the tension under his fingers, Vlad’s hair in his grip providing just enough resistance to cause him to pause. Danny breathes in a shallow breath and collects his thoughts. He can’t snap again. 

Danny can feel Vlad’s hair move in his grip and he belatedly releases him when he realizes that’s probably uncomfortable. But if it is, Vlad didn’t voice it, and right now all Danny can see is the vague outline of him, thinks maybe he’s tilting his head at him. Maybe he’s staring blindly like Danny is, carefully trying to gauge the other’s reactions. 

“Yeah, well, you’re not really acting like yourself either,” Danny manages to say without too much bite to his words. But it scares him how he felt himself lose his composure, how he feels even now he’s on a precipice and he doesn’t know what lies over the edge. 

Vlad makes this humming noise that for some reason makes Danny’s skin crawl and it occurs to him, once again, this man has his hand on his neck. He’s testing him, Danny thinks suddenly. No, that didn’t seem entirely right. Danny didn’t really think this was premeditated, it was too… unlike Vlad. Even as far as Vlad went, this was too raw and inelegant. 

And wasn’t Danny testing him in his own way? He let him lurk over him, whisper into his ear, run his hands along him. No that wasn’t quite right, he’d encouraged it, the fact his fingers were curled loosely in his suit jacket was a testament to that. Danny thinks of how Vlad smiles and he hates how it feels like a warning, how it feels like despite all of Vlad’s bark he had just as a formidable bite. Danny wasn’t really sure what he expected from Vlad, wanted from him. 

Maybe Danny wanted Vlad to tighten his grip on his neck, to betray the hesitant trust placed into his hands. Maybe that would make Danny feel better because then they’d be equal, they’d both have betrayed the security of the hazy blanket of night that covered them. Maybe Danny wants to assured that this is all just a facade, just another charismatic charade, just like everything else. Just like the election, the donations, this park. Just like the surprisingly gentle way Vlad was running his hand up his neck, pressing gentle behind his ear. 

“What am I, a cat?” Danny asks, not sure if he’s amused or annoyed. Maybe a bit of both. No, definitely a bit of both, because this was ridiculous and he hadn’t answered Danny’s request that he’d spent so much energy just getting the courage to say. Not that he really minded. Vlad was warm and his weight was almost like an anchor tethering him. What he was tethered to, he wasn’t certain. 

“Well, you do purr when I pet you,” Vlad replies in a voice that sounds heavy and distracted. Danny realizes he must be thinking about something by the tone, which is likely why he hadn’t received a real reply. 

“I do not,” Danny protests but he doesn’t really have his heart in it because he feels a quiet, warm tingling sensation run along his scalp and is Vlad doing that on purpose? 

Is that, like, a thing? Is there a secret ‘turn to mush’ button behind his ears? Can anyone do that, just rub behind his ears and turn him into jelly? Or was this a Vlad thing? Like the way his fingertips seemed to radiate a deep warmth, the way his breath was so hot it sent shivers down his spine. He makes a vague, hazy note to self to check later if it is or isn’t a Vlad thing but he almost instantly forgets about it because an incredible warmth presses against his lips.

By the time Danny registers that Vlad is kissing him he’s already sighing into his mouth. He’s not sure when he let his eyelids flutter closed and he feels like it doesn’t matter anyway, everything was sensation and sound. But then Vlad is pulling away again and Danny resists the urge to pull him back only due to the embarrassment that floods his head when he realizes how needy he’s acting. 

“Think you can transform without your little battle cry?” Vlad asks and while the words are biting, his tone is soft and as warm as he feels on Danny’s skin. 

“Huh?” Danny replies, not at all following Vlad’s train of thought. 

“You said you wanted privacy. I’ll escort you to my home,” Vlad speaks out in this quiet, rushed tone, “if you would like, of course,” Vlad adds a bit too quickly to be a smooth recovery. 

“What, like, fly there together?” Danny’s not really sure why that’s the detail that seems ridiculous to him, especially considering the fact Vlad was literally on top of him. 

“How else do you propose we get there without anyone seeing?” Vlad asks in a tone bordering on annoyance.

Danny’s not sure if it’s the tone or the words themselves that jar him from his stupor, that causes the beginning of an indignant fire in his chest. He can’t figure out why he cares. That was so like Vlad, more than eager to do something that would damage his reputation as long as he can sweep it under the rug. His limbs act before he wills them to, pushing Vlad away and it feels briefly like Danny is drowning. Like the air that feels freezing compared to Vlad is suddenly suffocating him, pressing in on him from all directions.

“You know what? Nevermind,” Danny says in a voice that sounds more steady than he feels black luminescent rings run along his midsection, up past his eyes as he stands up. 

Danny isn’t sure why the sound of Vlad’s body when he hits the ground, the grunt that elicits, feels like its tugging Danny in. Like Vlad’s still anchoring him and Danny’s doing everything he can to swim out of his each before he drowns. When he turns, all at once the sensation snaps and, if it weren’t for the fact he can hear Vlad shifting on the ground, he could convince himself none of this had happened. That all of this was a dream and that the anchor pulling him down was nothing but fraying string that snapped so easily at the slightest resistance. 

Even though that hold over him is broken he doesn’t leave, not immediately. Again, he’s not sure what he expects, what he wants. Did he want this? Did he want Vlad to show just the smallest semblance that he was selfish, that he was malicious? 

Danny expects Vlad to yell at him, something… Something like how he’d yelled at his mom, maybe. That he can’t just walk away, that he’d regret this. But Vlad’s so quiet Danny can hear him breathing. It’s a sharp, jerking kind of breath that makes Danny grit his teeth. Danny forces himself to take a step and when all he hears is that jerky breath stuttering in the darkness all he wants to do is turn around and shake him. Doesn’t he at least have the decency to ask him what he did wrong? To ask him why he angry? 

But does Danny even want him to ask when the answer is that he ruined it? That he had ruined all of this just by being himself? Wasn’t that crossing some sort of line? It was unreasonable to expect the man to be anything but himself. 

Danny realizes as he forces himself to fly in the vague direction of his home he’s lost again. Because for all of his waiting, all of his betting on the tiniest shred of malevolence, he didn’t feel accomplished for catching him. This is what he’d wanted. For his grip to tighten around his neck, for him to pull the rope Danny was handing him, for him to snap his teeth and tear him open, to prove he was the same Vlad, to prove he was still the bad guy. 

For some reason when Danny flops into bed, he doesn’t feel like the good guy. He doesn’t really feel like anything at all.


	3. Signals: Intercepted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is absolutely nothing more pathetic than a pompous billionaire sulking into his spaghetti.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has, I think, the most obvious tonal shift in comparison to the entire piece and I'm unsure if it's fitting or cohesive. However, I really enjoyed writing it, so hopefully someone will like reading it.
> 
> Extremely lightly edited, there be grammar errors ahead.

_It’s official_ , Danny thinks to himself. _There is absolutely nothing more pathetic than a pompous billionaire sulking into his spaghetti._

Danny isn’t really one to feel bad about altercations with Vlad but this, well, it was just sad. Danny’s dad had asked if Vlad was feeling okay, and what is Vlad going to tell him? ‘Oh no, you see your son rejected me and I probably cried about it, but I’m just dandy! How are you, you deplorable oaf?’ It’s not like Vlad can confide in anyone about this and _wow_ how did Danny come out of this looking like the asshole here? Again? Is he imagining this? Was Vlad doing this on purpose?

Wait, wait, no, that was just stupid. Vlad was absolutely not the kind of mastermind to let his pride get so grievously wounded just to make Danny feel bad for him. That sounds like… the opposite of literally everything he’s known Vlad to do ever. And how did Danny even know he was really sulking? Maybe he just _looked like that_ and Danny hadn’t noticed.

Danny grits his teeth and casually mauls the meatball in his mouth to deal with the realization of two things. First of all, Vlad was upset, second of all, Danny felt bad. For some reason.

 _For some reason_ , yeah, right. It’d been three days since then so the feelings were still fresh enough for Danny to feel them viscerally but old enough for him to be able to be introspective about them. The fact was he had a crush,or something, on Vlad. He was leaning to the ‘or something’. A crush was a bit too kiddish, too carefree to describe the whole situation.

He’d considered calling it some sort of misplaced lust, probably hormonal or whatever. He’s 16 so he’s, like, just oozing hormones, right? He couldn’t admit to himself fully but he was slowly coming to accept that it wasn’t just lust either. If it was just lust, why did he care so much about Vlad’s actions, his words. Why did he hang onto every word and touch looking for any hint that he couldn’t trust him? Danny figures maybe he’s just not the kind of guy for fooling around, maybe he just wanted an excuse to bail. Because he’s never gone beyond kissing before, because Vlad is Vlad and Danny is Danny and this isn’t how things are supposed to be.

Danny stabs another meatball and watches the way the meat bends almost imperceptibly under the force of the prongs, the feeling of the fork as it slides inside. A thin, translucent oil froths out in the tiniest amount and runs down the side. He narrows his eyes and turns the fork in his fingers and pushes it sideways onto his plate, slicing through the meatball as he thinks. This isn’t how things are supposed to be. That’s what had been bothering him. He wasn’t supposed to be feeling bad about this. He wasn’t supposed to be perpetually apathetic. He wasn’t supposed to kiss his archenemy. He wasn’t supposed to feel bad when he hurt his archenemy’s feelings. This wasn’t fair, like everything else it wasn’t fair. But it wasn’t like it was Vlad’s fault. His biggest crime lately was just being himself and Danny was slowly losing his ability to hold that against him.

But wasn’t that worse? That he was allowed to go on being himself despite being so obviously different? People probably didn’t stop him and say, ‘oh are you all right Mr. Masters?’ or ‘you’re not acting like yourself,’ or anything like it. It wasn’t fair, why was everyone telling him how _different_ he was when he was still the same but when _Vlad_ acts all weird no one is there to be worried about him, no one is there to ask him if he’s all right-- he  wiggles the fork when he reaches the plate, the meatball still holding together but barely. As the sound of metal across ceramic hits his ears he realizes why he feels so bad.

_Vlad didn’t have anyone to ask if he’s all right._

And that was something Danny was _envious_ of? Just how self-centered was he? Why was he so desperate to make this Vlad’s fault?

Danny wasn’t really all the hungry to begin with, but as a feeling of guilt washes over him in a fresh wave, he realizes he’s not hungry at all. He considers looking at Vlad, just gauging how tore up he is. He hadn’t even yelled at him. That was the worst part. Danny thinks he could get over this and just realize he’d dodged one hell of a bullet if Vlad had had the decency to just…. be Vlad.

A hot flush of shame rushes up his face as he realizes that’s one hell of a vicious circle.

‘Be yourself! No, not like that-- why couldn’t you have just been yourself more so I wouldn’t feel bad?’

Man, that’s… Damn.

He glances up at Vlad to find he’s chatting while attempting to look interested about whatever it is they’d been discussing. Hopefully nothing about Danny, he was really, really tuned out. He caught the word ‘electromagnetic’ and phases back out. He definitely had a certain aura about him that was very much not himself. His movements were a bit heavier, his face a bit less expressive. When he smiles it’s just the slightest bit tired.

His eyes were the most obvious sign something was wrong. His face was smiling, but his gaze was a bit glassy, like he was looking elsewhere. It feels familiar to Danny. He wonders if his own eyes are as glassy, if they’re both pondering the same thing.

He jerks up at the sound of his name.

“...did your exams go?” he manages to hear most of the question his mom asks as she gives him a worried glance. Geez, just when he thought he could get through dinner without his own condition being questioned as long as Vlad was there to draw away attention.

“Uh, good, I think,” Danny answers and twists his fork to gather up some noodles. He doesn’t really intend to eat them but if he asks to leave now it’ll just result in more questions.

“Great! When do you get your results?” his dad asks in a voice far more boisterous than Danny thinks he is physically capable of expressing himself.

“Next week, I think. Monday, I guess,” he says while trying to sound as confident as possible.

Since when did Vlad and his parents even get along? Like sincerely get along? Since when did they discuss anything where his mom wasn’t closely guarded and where Vlad wasn’t just trying to show off?

He glances up from his plate of food then to regard everyone, just in time to see Jazz’s mouth open. She closes her mouth and just shakes her head. Danny guesses he was _this_ close to a ‘I’m worried about you, little brother’ lecture before Jazz read the air and decided against it. She was being uncharacteristically quiet herself.

Danny glances over at Vlad and nearly startles when he sees his eyes fixed on him. Danny isn’t sure what he expected. He _is_ currently the topic of conversation.

“Have you decided what you want to major?” his mom asks and he nearly laughs at the question. College? He didn’t know what he wanted to do in the next twenty minutes, much less what he wanted to do in college.

“I haven’t really… given it much thought,” Danny admits as he continues spinning the same section of noodles and hopes it gives the illusion he’s picking at his food instead of playing with it.

“Oh, well that’s okay. You know, your father changed majors twice,” Maddie says in between a sip of water.

He couldn’t really picture his dad not knowing what he wanted to do with his life, he was so passionate about ghosts.

“You’ll figure it out. And if worst comes to worst, you can always work with us!” Jack says in a tone Danny suspects Jack thinks is comforting.

 _Gonna have to take a hard pass on that one._ If he was lucky, he could avoid getting dissected by his 18th birthday and maybe even live without that constant threat in the back of his head. Okay, okay, that was dramatic. He could probably trust his parents… someday. Not today. Not tomorrow but, y’know… Someday.

“Perhaps Astronomy. You’d be suited for it.”

Danny glances up from his rapidly cooling spaghetti when he hears Vlad’s voice. He hadn’t really expected him to chime in on this topic. Vlad is still looking at him and Danny can’t quite decipher what the expression is. His expression is so… blank. Danny can’t tell if it’s a practiced blankness or if he really is feeling as empty as he looks. For some reason the thought that Vlad feels empty when he looks at him elicits a feeling so hollow it doesn’t even hurt, not really. What hurts is the fact it doesn’t hurt.

“Danny always did like space,” Maddie says in a thoughtful tone, “though I can’t really picture him as an astronomer…”

“Life’s full of surprises,” Vlad replies, voice low, and Danny gets the distinct feeling he’s not really directing that to Maddie so much as he is to him.

“Well, whatever surprise Danny settles on is good enough for me,” Maddie answers in a matter-of-fact tone.

Jack stands then to excuse himself for seconds as Danny thinks there’s a few surprises she wouldn’t be so keen on. Like the one staring at him with a pointed gaze right now. That was a hell of a surprise and somehow he got the distinct feeling his mom wouldn’t really be on board with the whole ‘I made out with your old college buddy, who is a creep, oh and did I mention he’s evil?’ thing.

Danny sighs and turns his gaze into Vlad’s eyes. Their gazes meet and for a moment it feels a bit like how it always was. Challenging glares over a dinner table, resentment bubbling beneath their carefully adjusted facade felt just like normal. But then it hits Danny and it hits him hard. Vlad’s gaze isn’t challenging it’s questioning, an unspoken _why_. Vlad was smart enough to know at least one thousands reasons why he’d reject him, what was not to get here? Despite himself Danny just sort of half heartedly lets his shoulders slump. He’s not really sure how to nonverbally express what he’s feeling. Hell, he’s not really sure how to verbally express what he’s feeling.

Okay, he couldn’t just keep ignoring this.

Danny stares at him in a pointed manner and when he’s sure Vlad’s eyes are on his, he looks at his watch. As subtly as possible while making sure it’s in Vlad’s frame of view, he taps the clock face and then returns to staring into his eyes. He really, really hopes his attempt of miming ‘we need to talk later’ go through him. Or maybe he just thinks Danny wants him to do something quickly. Dammit.

Vlad tilts his head slightly, his brows raised. Eh, he seemed to get the idea that Danny wants to convey something to him which is a start. He’s probably curious enough to pursue it even if the meaning was unclear.

With that behind him for the moment, Danny returns to playing with his food as his father sits back down with his second helping.

Danny sighs quietly to himself, not really paying attention to the chatter that falls over the adults once he realizes it’s not directed at him. He glances up at them, eyes roaming their faces. Yup, they’re talking about some astronomy professor they had.

“...and Jack wrote on his test ‘confection zone’, do you remember that? The professor thought it was so funny he put it up on sun chart until the end of the semester!”

Danny looks at the kitchen, not really sure what he expects to see there. On the way back to his plate, something stands out at him. He glances up and sees Jazz looking at him, her eyes narrowed. Wait. Wait, was she watching him? Did she see him mime to Vlad?

She tilts her head when she realizes he’s looking at her, her brows raised. She shakes her head and stands, empty plate in hand, “thanks for dinner. I’m going to head to bed, long day tomorrow.”

Danny understands that her purposeful and hurried nature of her departure up the stairs is the most subtle way she can think of to illustrate they need to talk. He briefly considers just never going upstairs ever again… Yeah, that’s not an option. Might as well rip this bandaid off sooner than later.

Danny pushes his chair out and just about hurls himself into an upright position, “yeah, me too actually,” he doesn’t bother to take care of his plate of food as he bounds up the stairs two at a time, “good night!”

He hears his mother’s confused ‘good night’ as he reaches the top of the stairs. He looks around in the hall. Okay, she isn’t here, then maybe she--

Danny struggles against a firm grip on his arm, wriggling against it instinctively as he’s yanked into his own room.

“What’s going on?” Jazz demands more than asks.

“I don’t know what you’re--” Danny begins weakly but is cut off quickly.

“Did you and Vlad get into a fight?”

The phrasing makes Danny blink once, twice. He shakes his head when he realizes _holy shit_ obviously she doesn’t mean _couple_ fight. She means their usual fights, their violent fights.

“Yeah,” Danny agrees a bit too hastily and grits his teeth when he realizes how unnatural he sounds, “but I’m fine! I won, actually that’s why Vlad, uh… is sulking.”

Jazz’s brows furrow, her arms cross, her mouth purses.

“You both kinda look like you’re sulking to me,” she says in an even but low tone that says ‘I don’t believe you’ and ‘you better tell me’ all at once.

Danny resists the urge to cringe when he realizes he’s going to have to come up with a better excuse. Or tell the truth. No. No, the better excuse was the right option here.

Jazz’s eyes narrow and her expression softens a bit, her gaze searching Danny’s expression.

“Is it… something I can help with?”

Danny opts to just sort of… rub his arm sheepishly. He’s not really sure what he’s trying to convey there but it just feels right.

“Look, Danny, if it’s something I can help with, let me help. If it’s not then…” her gaze turns to the ground. “Then just stay safe. For your sake.”

Jazz’s voice was so quiet, so soft so…

Danny shakes his head, “you make it sound like I’m dying. Just what do you _think_ is going on here to make you so worried?”

He seriously can’t fathom it. As far as issues with Vlad go, this was frankly the least likely to kill him. Well, he hopes so anyway. He can’t really picture Vlad being _that_ upset over it.

“I don’t know, Danny! I just know you and Vlad…” she seems to struggle for words, perhaps not wanting to put words in Danny’s mouth. “Something clearly happened and I don’t think it was a fight. And you want to talk to him later about whatever it is.”

Ah ha! So the signal had gotten through! Wait, why is he celebrating? Jazz isn’t who the message was for! Typical.

“What do you want me to say, Jazz?” Danny asks, feeling himself get irritated. He can’t even blame her for being concerned, not this time. Not really. “That Vlad and I made out and I was an asshole to him for no reason and now I feel like a jerk,” slips out in a hurried, aggressive tone. Did he really just say that? Is this real life? Why did Danny have to keep running his mouth?

Jazz’s eyes widen, her face slack. Danny feels frozen, unsure of what to do. There wasn’t really any coming back from that, was there?

But then Jazz was bent over, hands on her stomach as she laughed. Danny forced out a laugh and hoped it sounded genuine. Jazz kept laughing, tears forming in her eyes, so Danny forced out some more laughter, a weak smile on his face when she finally composed herself.

“Okay, okay, I get it. You don’t want to tell me,” Jazz wiped a tear from her eye, her face red, “but I mean it Danny. Stay safe,” she was still fighting back giggles in a wavering voice when she finished speaking.

Jazz’s smile as she walks behind him to the door feels strange somehow, as if it’s as forced as Danny’s laughs and he briefly considers that she was just faking laughter for his sake. Maybe to give him an out. Or maybe because she genuinely thought he was fucking with her.

“Good night,” she calls out gently as she closes the door behind her.

Huh. Okay, that could’ve gone worse. Like, for instance, maybe Jazz completely and utterly faked laughing and is actually seriously concerned and is actively plotting how to capture Danny to figure out what the hell is wrong with him? Ugh. Well, there wasn’t any point worrying about that, what’s done is done. Hopefully Jazz would leave some sections of his brain unpicked. She was merciful like that, usually.

At least she hadn’t asked if he was all right.

Speaking of things that weren’t all right… Danny supposes he actually needs to talk to Vlad now. Using words and not aggressive miming. Danny wonders if he just sort of hides in the rafters he can get away with avoiding him. Or maybe in the walls? It’s probably pretty dusty…. Danny distractedly closes his bedroom door, noting to lock it just to feel a bit more secure.

Plus he doesn’t like the idea of going intangible for too long. It took a lot of energy and what if he got stuck? And what if Vlad found him stuck? Yeah, that would be infinitely worse than just talking to him like a normal human being.

Then again, they’re not normal human beings…

No. No. No hiding in the walls. Danny glances around his room. Hiding under the bed is something monsters do. Then again, ghosts are sorta monsters. The closet is a bit too… there’s just a lot of implications there Danny doesn’t really feel like going through right now. Then again, maybe that’d be a good way to lighten the tension. Or to make a point.

Danny briefly pictures himself getting into his own closet and slowly closing the door while maintaining eye contact with Vlad.

Too… there’s too many things wrong with that thought to go over each one right now. The big one being Danny wasn’t exactly insecure in his bisexuality. But maybe he could swing some sort of ‘It’s not you, it’s me and I’m incredibly comfortable in the closet’ thing. It’s not like Vlad knew Danny was bi. He hadn’t really come out properly to even Sam and Tucker so…

Okay, no, he was too fixated on the closet thing. Scrap that. Danny is better than this. He can face Vlad and own up to his mistakes and admit he was an asshole. Danny is absolutely 100% capable of being earnest or sincere without trying to get out of it or cover it up with lame jokes. He could do this.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, the closet idea was looking really appealing so why doesn’t he just--

A chill runs up his spine, his core nearly rattling with energy. The breath of cold air that is forced from his lips lets him know Vlad is very shortly going to arrive as Plasmius. Danny doesn’t have much of a chance to consider his options before he feels Plasmius’s presence, the hair on his arms standing on end from the proximity to the halfa. All at once, Plasmius appears in front of him, arms crossed and looking quite stern as he hovers idly in front of him.

“You seem well,” he drawls in a tone Danny isn’t entirely sure is sarcastic or not.

“Hi,” Danny replies quietly after an awkward pause.

The silence that stretches out in that moment makes Danny’s chest feel tight, makes it a little hard to breathe. The feeling only intensifies as each second passes with no response.

“Hi,” Vlad offers in a confused tone. It was kind of hard to tell his mood when he was Plasmius, if Danny was honest, and he was briefly grateful that Vlad’s voice was so expressive.

“About… uhm…” Danny isn’t really sure where to begin and is really thinking he should’ve just gone with hiding under the bed. Maybe he could’ve dropped off a letter at his house or something. Wait. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Whatever, there’s no time to regret his impulsive nature right now.

Vlad lands on the floor then and for a moment Danny expects him to transform to his human form. When it doesn’t happen something tugs at Danny’s chest and Danny hates the feeling. Why was he so… vulnerable lately? He messed everything up himself and now he feels all tore up about it. Danny feels then suspiciously like his heart is made of paper and it’s all he can do to stop it from getting torn. But somehow, he keeps covering himself in papercuts when he tries to keep it safe. The worst part was Danny felt distinctly like all he could do was hold on as tight as he could, even if that meant crushing it himself.

“I’d like to apologize for… my actions.”

Danny realizes he’s been staring at the floor, realizes Vlad just said something. It doesn’t process right away. By the time he jerks his head up, lips slightly parted in surprise Vlad is already speaking again, his red eyes half lidded.

“...it was unbecoming of me. There are certain lines that… I believe shouldn’t be crossed,” Vlad continues in a low voice, and Danny can’t tell but he has the feeling if Vlad were human Danny would be able to see his eyes pointed at the floor in front of Danny’s feet. He’s not sure why that makes his chest ache again, makes this terrible sensation crawl up his arms to the back of his neck.

“I have the impression that I misread what you’d meant. I believe I may have been,” Vlad pauses, mouth open, he turns his head, “perhaps projecting what I…” Vlad trails off. Danny watches his gloved hands clench in his sleeves, his lips form into a thin line and jaw tighten.

“In any case,” Vlad speaks in a tone that’s so devoid of emotion Danny is positive it’s purposeful, “expecting you to come to my home was presumptuous. Obviously you wouldn’t feel comfortable with me considering our...” Vlad seems to consider several word choices before speaking in the same even tone, “history. At least, certainly not where I store all of my weapons.”

Danny blinks. He feels like an idiot momentarily because he’d never even considered that. He’d never even considered how Vlad could take advantage of the situation, how Danny could’ve been walking right into a trap. He could have captured him. He could have experimented on him, tortured him, he could have…

Danny’s eyes meets Vlad’s red ones. Why is it lately Danny missed all of Vlad’s red flags? Why is it Danny still isn’t really taking the threat seriously? Is it because Vlad just came out and said it? That didn’t mean anything, maybe he’d change his mind. He might not want to hurt him now, but he didn’t always want to hurt Danny either. But he did it anyway because Danny rejected every self-serving olive branch extended to him, because he didn’t accept Vlad as his father, his mentor.

But this felt different. That much was obvious. When Danny pushed him away he hadn’t lashed out. With that in mind, Danny thinks about Vlad’s words just now. What did Vlad mean by lines? He obviously didn’t mean he was drawing the line in the sand regarding sexual contact with Danny, he seemed all to eager to lure him to his home. Vlad thinks he pushed him away because… He recalls the events, what it must’ve felt like from Vlad’s perspective. One moment they were fine and then the next… Danny had pushed him away after Vlad said he wanted them to get to his house without anyone seeing. It clicks then. Vlad thinks Danny pushed him away because he thought it was a trap.

Danny wasn’t entirely sure but he thinks Vlad is telling he wouldn’t use sex as a means to make Danny vulnerable, that that’s crossing some sort moral boundary. Danny briefly feels sick at the realization it’s likely Vlad’s thought about it. He’s considered using it against him. The feeling lessens when he reminds himself he’d come to the conclusion _not to_. And if he was planning on it, telling Danny this would just make him paranoid when Danny went home with him.

Danny feels a blush spread on his cheeks at the realization it wasn’t ‘if’ Danny went home with him but ‘when’. That he wanted to trust him. That he was happily handing Vlad chance after chance to hurt him and the only thing that actually upset him wasn’t that Vlad might hurt him but that Vlad didn’t want to be seen with him. Danny tells himself then that it’s because Vlad’s a hypocrite, that he wants to maintain this prim and proper persona while making out with a teenager in a park. He tells himself it’s not because it hurts him to even consider Vlad is ashamed of him.

Danny tells himself when he walks towards Vlad, the stand-offish distance Vlad had left between them quickly disappearing, that it’s okay. It’s okay. Danny gently reaches out to Vlad’s right hand, fingers trembling. He doesn’t expect Vlad to let him when he tries to pull his hand away from his arm, but somehow Vlad lets him despite his staring in what was likely well-deserved confusion. Carefully, he slides his palm along his and the tiniest voice in his head is in awe of Vlad, of Plasmius. Vlad was warm normally, Vlad as Plasmius was not only warm. He felt almost electrifying, like Danny was running his hand over pop rocks.

He’s felt this before, he remembers feeling how Plasmius feels when he’s not Phantom. He didn’t want to admit it, but in those times the realization that Plasmius’s energy caused the sensation was frightening. Vlad was strong enough on his own, strong enough that the sense of dread that filled him by just imagining Plasmius’s hand on his neck while he was defenseless almost made him want to transform himself. Almost made his arms, suddenly electric with their own energy from the adrenaline that pumped through his veins, push him away instinctively.

Vlad’s mouth is a firm line when Danny squeezes his hand in a manner he hopes is comforting and he wishes he knew where to begin.

“I’ve been a huge jerk lately,” Danny says and he’s internally shocked at how steady, calm his voice sounds despite his heart pounding in his chest.  “I haven’t been myself lately… For a while now. You sort of caught me at…” Danny tries to arrange his thoughts into a coherent idea and it feels like it’s a cold night on a full moon, like all his thoughts are sliding out of his grip.

“People kept telling me I wasn’t myself. They kept asking me if I was all right. I mean-- they still do. Everyone still asks if I’m all right, but I don’t know what’s so different about me and… I’m just…” Danny feels his throat quiver, feels it tighten painfully as he breathes in a sharp breath.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Danny says and he hates how quiet his voice is, how it wavers.

“I’m the one who should apologize,” Danny pushes out, eyes focused on the floor.

It’s quiet again. Danny’s brain fills with a terrible buzzing sensation as it stretches on, his lips tingle when he licks them.

“I’m not entirely sure what you’re getting at but,” Vlad pauses, voice low in a tone Danny would consider consoling from anyone else, “if I’m understanding correctly you regret what happened?”

The way the word regret sounds on Vlad’s voice makes Danny tighten his grip on Vlad’s hand without meaning to.

“Not all of it,” Danny says quickly, suddenly feeling a bit bashful. He realizes Vlad probably expects him to elaborate and he’s not sure if he has it in him right now. He retraces his steps, the last time they’d seen each other. He recalls Vlad’s hot breath as his deep, sweet voice spoke to him. The way he’d said Danny didn’t need to apologize, the way he’d pressed him down against the bench.

“When I apologized last time it wasn’t because I… I mean, okay, that was sort of a part of the apology ‘cause I assumed you hadn’t liked it but it was mostly ‘cause I didn’t mean to…” Danny breathes harshly through his teeth in a deep inhale, frustrated that every word that came out of his mouth felt harder to say than the last.

“I was trying to hurt you. If you hadn’t pulled away, none of that would’ve happened,” the words tumble from his lips in a broken cadence, “when you asked if I was okay…” Danny has no idea how to phrase this, especially not when he feels Vlad’s grip on his hand falter, “I didn’t want to kiss you.” A moment passes before he can finally let the words pass his lips in a soft voice that sounds unlike his own, “I wanted to strangle you.”

The silence that falls is somehow even worse than the last. It couldn’t have lasted more than several seconds and yet it feels like an eternity because suddenly _Danny can’t breathe_. And it feels deserved, that’s what he gets.

But then he hears Vlad’s voice, feels his thumb run along that back of his hand and it takes him several moments to realize he’s laughing. Danny can breathe again and a tiny, irrational part of Danny wonders if Vlad is magic because somehow the warmth in his laugh makes tension and fear melt away instantly.

“What made you change your mind?” Vlad asks, a fanged smile forming on his face, “I gave you ample opportunity to do so.”

Danny thinks. He wasn’t really sure himself what had driven him that night, not entirely. Sleep deprivation, partially. Touch starvation probably factored in… But what was it that had him star struck, what was it that pulled Danny to him? Vlad just let him hold his collar, just stared at him inches away from his face. That was a part of it. Curiosity. Why is Vlad not pulling away? What is he thinking? 

What was missing right now? There was a deep, integral part of Vlad’s magnetism that was gone and Danny couldn’t put his finger on it. He was still warm, so incredibly warm, so that wasn’t it… Well, it was a part of it. Danny struggles to keep his breathing even then, struggles to keep calm as he tries earnestly to be honest with him and is at a loss for words. How can he give him the answers Vlad wants when even Danny doesn’t know the answer? He closes his eyes as he becomes hyper aware of the silence between them, how it just keeps going on and on and he wonders if it feels as agonizing for Vlad as it does for him. Wonders if Vlad’s was having trouble controlling his breath--

Danny’s eyes open then, the realization feeling as obvious as it was strange. He wishes then he had a normal answer, something cliche. Like ‘I got lost in your eyes,’ or, ‘I have some unresolved Daddy issues.’ Danny mentally bats away that last one, refusing to even address the fact those words in that order had appeared in his mind at all, much less in this context. 

What is Danny going to tell him? That Danny wanted to touch him because he was breathing, because he was warm, because everytime the vapor of his hot breath met his skin it was undeniable evidence he was alive. That the fact that Vlad wasn’t even breathing out of habit as Plasmius was sort of bothering him, as if Vlad was  _ used _ to being dead despite the fact he felt so alive. 

“I liked hearing you breathe,” Danny admits when he realizes he doesn’t have it in him to lie about this. He’d spent a good three minutes letting Vlad’s mind wander while Danny’s eyes flicked up as he tried to remember. 

Vlad tilts his head, lips parted slightly. Danny thinks then that Vlad’s realized Danny’s some sort of freak. That that was the creepiest possible way Danny could’ve phrased that. But it was too late to stop now, he couldn’t just stop there with that half-assed stalkeresque confession. 

“You felt so alive, you were so warm,” the words tumble past his lips before he can stop himself, “I wanted to take your breath away, I just didn’t realize I was going about it the wrong way until I felt your breath on my skin.” 

For a good twenty seconds it doesn’t sink in fully, what Danny had just said. When it hits him that this was real, he’d actually just said that, he almost turned invisible. That it wasn’t only the cheesiest thing he’d ever said, it was also the most embarrassing thing he’d ever said. Why had he said that? Why was he even telling Vlad any of this, a simple apology would be enough, he didn’t owe him anything, he… 

Danny’s train of thought is derailed when he feels hands on him, looping under his arms as he’s roughly shoved into the door. It rattles on its hinges when his back makes contact, as a larger body presses against him before those same hands slide to his lower back. Danny squeaks, wiggling in Vlad’s hold and-- If Vlad shoving him against the door was derailing his train of thought, Vlad’s lips crushing Danny’s sent it directly into a ditch and caused it to spontaneously combust. Danny’s mouth opens in a gasp as an almost painfully warm electric sensation spreads over his lips and before he can even process that _everywhere_ Vlad touches makes his skin tingle, he feels Vlad’s tongue against his own.

The metaphorical train explodes, hundreds are dead, and Danny doesn’t give a shit. Danny’s hands curl into fists in Vlad’s cape as he moans into his mouth. He twists in Vlad’s hold, arching his back and shivering when that feeling of his energy washes over him. He suddenly feels like his entire body is tingling and he doesn’t want to stop. Danny kisses back, desperately writhing against Vlad as Danny wraps his arms and round Vlad’s neck and pulls him closer in a crushing grip. Danny feels Vlad run his hands down and it’s so instinctual to let Vlad lift him, to wrap one of his legs around Vlad.

Danny’s vaguely aware of his shoulders aching from where he was pinned, his back aching from where it made contact with the door, but somehow that doesn’t seem to matter right now because _he can’t breathe_. His head feels fuzzy and heavy as he struggles to breathe through his nose, another moan robbing him of much needed oxygen when Vlad’s tongue runs over the roof of his mouth, around his teeth. Danny thinks deliriously this is how he’s going to die when the discomfort increases and if Vlad weren’t pouring his own hot groan into his mouth Danny might care. If he’s going to die-- if he can die-- he wants to die just like this.

Just when Danny begins to feel his eyes ache, like he’s going to pop, feels his fingers begin to loosen from weakness, Vlad finally pulls away with a manic fanged grin on his face. In any other context, that grin could only mean something horrible, could only cause fear to bloom in his chest and weigh him down. When Danny breathes in a wet, desperate breath he realizes right now Vlad could actually kill him. He could crush Danny in his grip and break his bones, he could use those fangs to tear out his throat. But when Vlad closes his teeth on Danny’s flesh, it’s on his trembling bottom lip. It almost hurts, almost feels like even Vlad’s front teeth are sharp enough to pierce his flesh. But instead of blood, all that flows out of Danny is a quiet groan in between heavy gasps when Vlad pulls his head away slow, dragging Danny’s lip with him playfully.

When Vlad opens his mouth slightly, Danny’s lip slips out and a tingling ache erupts immediately where he was bitten. Vlad’s grinning when Danny’s breathing evens out, every inhale pushing against Vlad’s chest.

“Funny you should mention that,” Vlad says and, fuck, Danny isn’t sure if he can handle his sweet honey voice right now, “I recently came to a similar realization myself.”

Danny can’t even figure out what he’s talking about, can’t remember _why_ he’d ended up wrapped around Vlad and he honestly didn’t particularly care. Danny squirms in Vlad’s grip, wanting to be as close as possible to Vlad’s intoxicating warmth.

Vlad leans back in, head next to Danny’s and Danny can somehow hear the smirk when his decadent voice oozes into his ear, “you’re not the only one who hasn’t been himself lately.”

Danny’s eyes snap open at those words, his heart pounding in his chest.

“If it’s any consolation…” Vlad whispers in an affectionate tone, “I am inordinately fond of the new Daniel.”

Just like that, his eyes slip back closed as a contented hum vibrates in his throat.

“With all that said,” Vlad’s tone shifts and his voice is no longer warm honey. It’s still warm, fond, but nearly as sweet when he speaks after a short pause, “I think we need to continue this another time.”

Danny’s heart sinks slightly as he lets his eyes open again with a flutter of his lashes, a small frown on his lips. He doesn’t protest verbally only because the promise of a next time.

“We’ve made enough noise for tonight,” Vlad says with a quiet laugh against his neck. Danny leans his head away without really thinking about it.

Yeah, that made sense… His parents were downstairs and Jazz was just down the hall…

Jazz. Jazz was just down the hall. Jazz, who knew he was going to talk to Vlad after dinner. Jazz, who confronted him about it. Jazz, who he’d confessed about kissing Vlad to. Jazz, who was likely already listening because she was worried about Danny.

Momentarily, Danny forgets where he is and throws his head back out of exasperation.Danny heard the sound of his head thunking against the door before he felt it, “fuuu _uuuuck_ ,” he whines more in annoyance than pain.

Whatever mood they’d established vanishes when Danny cusses, Vlad seemingly unable to hold back the chuckle as he slowly lowers Danny to the floor. When Danny is stood upright, he reaches out a hand and rubs the back of Danny’s head. Danny briefly considers whining about being patronized by Vlad petting him but decides the feeling of electric warmth that spreads wherever Vlad touches is too pleasant to complain about.

“It’s not funny, how am I going to explain this?” Danny says in a voice that’s too quiet and much too late to serve any purpose.

“You’re hardly the first teenager to have to explain away mysterious thumping and moaning coming from your bedroom, Daniel,” Vlad speaks in a amused tone, “I doubt anyone will confront you about what you get up to in your alone time.”

Danny rubs his hand over his face and for a moment he thinks he can’t even be mad because he really should have thought of this. No, no, actually, he was going to be mad about it.

“I suppose you’d know that from personal experience?” Danny shoots back.

Vlad’s smile shifts into a smirk as he chuckles silently. “Unlike you, I’m not ashamed to admit to natural urges I indulged during puberty.”

“Yeah well,” Danny absent mindedly leans his head into Vlad’s hand. Vlad’s alternated to running his fingers through the hair on the back of his head now, “you were probably ashamed at the time.”

Vlad tilts his head slightly at that response, fingers faltering for just a moment. “Perhaps,” he replies in a thoughtful tone.

“‘Perhaps’ my ass,” Danny replies with a snort.

“Is that an offer?” Vlad asks, dragging his fingertips along the back of Danny’s head with a renewed smirk.

“Oh, shut up,” Danny mutters and despite the fact he promises himself he won’t blush, his face shortly reddens.

“If you wish,” Vlad says, his hand finding its way down to the back of Danny’s neck, rubbing there in a soft circle.

They’re quiet then. Danny tries not to smile and avoids Vlad’s eyes. It’s quite the juxtaposition to Vlad not at all bothering to hide his amusement.

“I’m glad you’re in good spirits,” Vlad says, tone soft and it takes Danny a second to adjust to the shift in tone.

“Yeah?” Danny offers, not really sure what brought on the topic change.

“I mean that sincerely.” Vlad’s voice trails off. For a second he doesn’t speak and all Danny hears is the quiet sound Vlad’s fingers make as they rub circles into his neck. “I’m not a stranger to malaise,” Vlad speaks in a low, soft voice.

Danny nods, noting to look up the word ‘malaise’ when Vlad left. Vlad pulls away then and all at once his warmth evaporates from Danny’s skin. Vlad’s hand on his neck is the last part to slip away from him as he steps back.

“I suppose a form of communication is in order…” Vlad says, arms crossed. Danny raises a brow.

“Like, a phone number?”

Vlad is silent for several moments. “If that would be easiest for you.”

Danny gets the feeling the hesitance is because of his position. Imagine if someone got ahold of it and they were texting when to meet up… Danny tries and fails to not blush at the thought that wow, this is a thing. This is a thing, Vlad wanted to do this again, they wanted to do this again. It wasn’t like they were dating or anything they were just… making out every time they’d ran into each other for three times in a row. When Danny puts it like that, it seems somehow worse than dating.

Danny thinks of how Vlad pinned him against the door, how Danny hadn’t just let him but had savored it. How Vlad wanted him, how it seemed almost like Vlad was unable to hold back just then, like he’d been wanting to pin Danny down and kiss him stupid for weeks.

“Nah,” Danny says with a small smirk, blush heating up his cold skin almost imperceptibly, “I know where to find you.”


End file.
